Second Chances
by Becca Maddox
Summary: Arthur wants someone to care for again, and where's the best place to get that? Francis, of course. The famous FACE family gets together to welcome a new little one to the family, whom is commonly known as Arthur and Francis' Second Chance. Contains MPreg.
1. Chapter 1

This is a primarily FrUk fanfic. I own nothing except for a few of the future characters that haven't been introduced yet. This story does have other parings in it, such as GerIta, PruCan, Spamano, AusHus. Other pairings may be introduced later. This story has mature situations, and language. This includes MPreg, not only of England, but a few other characters as well, which will go with another fanfiction I am currently planning.

I consider this a joint fanfiction between **CrimsonRoseShadow **and myself. If anyone has any trouble, or can't reach me with anything considering the fanfiction, you can find her on here.

Now for the story.

-**Becca**

* * *

There was only a few things he missed. A tiny little person running up to him. Feeling the tiny little arms wrapping around him. Having someone who depended on him. Who came to him with their nightmares, wishing for him to take them away.

He missed having a child.

It had been years since his twins had moved out to have a hold on their own countries. It had been centuries since they needed him.

That was the best family he had ever had, even if the partnering wasn't great. An unfaithful partner, that he loved despite of that fact, was better than no partner it seemed. They had still been happy. Alfred and Mathew were always happy bundles of joy.

Until it all went wrong of course. When he and Francis had gone through a horrid break up, it quite literally left him broken, with two children to raise on his own. Yes, Francis came to visit every once and a while. Always with a new whore on his arm. Female or male. And he always left with no explanation to his children.

But, still those days were good ones. The two would always come to him with their troubles. But, that all stopped when they got older. When they left him too.

God, he needed a drink.

* * *

Arthur, in his drunken and confused state, could only find one answer. He needed to fuck Francis.

Yes, it wasn't how most embodiments came to be. Most of them just appeared. But, some did come from pregnancy, like the Italy twins had. And, yes, is was harder for male countries to become pregnant, but it was possible.

They were just embodiments, really they could do whatever they put their minds to. And right now, Arthur's was on getting another chance. Another child.

And he was going to get one. Francis was the closest. Closest to his home, and closest to his heart. Francis would understand. Hopefully.

But, as Arthur knocked loudly on the door, he didn't really care. Francis opened the door, and before the older country could get any words out, Arthur blurted, "I need you to have sex with me."

* * *

Francis raised an eyebrow, looking at the usually proper Englishman in front of him, "Arthur, are you drunk?" Watching the man wobbled a moment, he reached out to grab the other's shoulder, "Maybe you should come in, sleep it off."

Arthur nodded silently, following the older country into the home. The moment Francis' back was turned however, he hugged the many tightly, "Please, Francis."

The man stilled, turning his head to the drunken man's words, "_Mon ami_, I doubt when you've awoken from you're drunk illusion, you would not be very happy with me for taking such advantage of you."

"I would! I would be happy! I would be extremely happy, I promise you, Francis!"

Francis sighed, following along knowing that it was the only way to get past this, "And, may I ask, why would you be happy?"

"Because I want a baby," Arthur frowned when he felt Francis stiffen in his hug, "Don't worry! I can take care of them by myself. I've done it before, I can certainly do it again. I Just-"

Francis turned suddenly, silencing the rambling country, "I would never want you to go through that again! How dare you even suggest such a thing!"

Arthur immediately began rambling again, "The baby part isn't hard. Sure, the late nights are tiresome, but its all worth it in the end. I can raise them by myself, I've done it before. Maybe you could visit more often! That would be lovely, Francis."

"You don't understand what I say, _petit lapin_. I mean, I could never force you to raise a child on your own again. I could never allow you to be in such pain again. The pain of knowing that there is someone out there to help you, but because of their of their stupidity. . . And then by the time I finally realized my mistake, the twins were adults, and you were too far gone for me to have you in my arms again. You had returned to our ways before our partnership, and I followed, hoping for a repeat. Hoping for a second chance. It never came! And here you are. . . trying to make things harder for me to get to you."

Arthur seemed to sober up, releasing the Frenchman, and looking up with pain in his eyes. "I- Francis, I sometimes forget that you could feel as well. I forget that you have a heart. I hate to inform you of this. . . but you could of had your second chance from the beginning of this mess. If you had ever properly asked me to take you back, I would have done it with open arms. If you would have continued playing the game, or asked me to marry you for economical problems, we wouldn't be standing here like this."

Arthur had gone silent, his clear green eyes piercing Francis with the amount of anger and heartbreak that filled them. Francis stared down at the slightly smaller male, wondering what to say.

Arthur sighed, "I should go home. I think we both have a few things we need to think on." As he turned to leave, Francis grabbed onto his arm. This time Arthur turned his head to Francis, "What? Let me go."

"_Non. _You are staying here, Arthur. You're still too drunk to walk home like that." The Frenchman's eyes showed that he meant what he was saying, and that Arthur was going now where.

With another sigh, he allowed Francis to lead him to the foot of the stairs, "You can stay in my room tonight. I'll stay down here." When Arthur began to protest he continued, "You're my guest, you'll be more comfortable there."

Arthur stared into his eyes a moment, before grabbing fistfuls of Francis' hair, and pulling him into a kiss.

* * *

Arthur woke up the next morning, warm and comfortable, but it was ruined bu the near blinding headache. Burying his head into the pillows, he groaned. He made an attempt to pull a blanket over his head, but was stopped by an arm.

His eyes widened as he realized something terrifying. He was in a bed. With another person. And the way the sheets felt against him, he was most likely naked. What the hell did he do last night?

He closed his eyes a few of the drunken memories came to him. Francis. Arguing. Kissing.

Oh. The kiss. That was the last thing he remembered. Shit.

Groaning again, he heard a quiet chuckle. Soon after he felt a hand begin tracing lines on his back. Slowly, as to not aggravate the headache, he turned to look at the man beside him, watching the other grin.

He looked to the man's naked chest, before returning to the other's face, "Francis. . . Did you. . . Did we?"

Francis smirked suddenly, "No. We didn't do anything. Though I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that when you are in a drunken state, you prefer to sleep in the nude." A wide grin spread across the Frenchman's face, as Arthur's turned a bright red.

"Then why are you. . ." He motioned to the face that the sheets were the only things covering Francis.

"Why let you have all the fun, Arthur?"

Arthur's face seemed to turn a darker red, if it was even possible. Francis grabbed Arthur's hand, gently rubbing his cheek against it, before placing his lips on the underside of his wrist. Francis grinned as he felt the proud gentleman shiver, glad he remembered how that spot affected him.

"We have a few things to talk about, _mon lapin_." Francis' blue eyes met Arthur's fearful green ones.

"What do you mean?"

Francis shuffled closer, tilting Arthur's head lightly. His eyes showed complete seriousness, as he leaned close to his face. Arthur could feel the breath of the other on his lips, as he stared into the usually bright and shining blue eyes.

"_Me marier_."

Arthur's eyes widened once more, understanding the french words. Somehow he knew that the Frenchman meant it. He wasn't kidding or joking. He wasn't doing it for any reason besides wanting to. It was shown in his eyes.

"I've always loved you, Francis. . . You know that. But, are we ready for marriage? Are you sure we're ready to go past a partnership?"

Francis' eyes stared at him, the man not speaking a word. Arthur realized that this time he was the one holding them back. Not letting them reach each other.

With a small smile, he answered, "Yes."

Francis breathed in deeply, pulling Arthur into a kiss. When he was released he spoke, "Say it again."

"What?"

"Say it again, Arthur!"

Arthur knew what he meant, and pulled the Frenchman closer, "Yes, I will marry you."

"Again."

It went on like that for a while. In between kisses and touches, Francis demanding him to repeat the words. Slowly, but surely, Francis took the horrid hangover away, and they decided to spend the day in bed, planning a new future for themselves. Giving themselves a second chance.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur glared at the ring adorning his finger, the two emerald stones glimmering up at him. They were the eyes of the small golden frog that made up the ring, which Francis thought was oh so funny. Francis chose it as his engagement ring to mess with him, he just knew it.

And Francis was there, smirking at him. His arm thrown lazily over Arthur's shoulders, and Arthur felt like throwing it off and storming away, but he couldn't. He had something he and Francis had to do before they could leave.

They were telling the twins that they were getting married.

And Arthur was bloody well terrified. Alfred and Mathew would be the first people they told, and Arthur was nervous. The boys had been devastated and a little angry when Arthur and Francis had broken off their partnership when the boys were still young. Arthur was scared of how the boys might react when they heard the news.

Would they be happy? Angry? Sad?

Would they smile and congratulate the couple? Would they cry? Would they scream that the two were making a mistake?

Arthur took a deep breath and looked to the still smirking Frenchman next to him, "Francis, I am not ready for this."

"It will be alright, _mon cœur_. Besides, when else would we tell them?" Francis removed his arm, and moved to take hold of Arthur's hand.

Arthur looked away once more, mumbling, "On the wedding day."

The couple looked up when the sound of running and loud laughter entered the hallway. The sound meaning Alfred had arrived and was heading towards them. They waited a few moments before the door slammed open and a yelling American entered the room.

"Hey, England! I got your call man, what's up?" The younger nation stepped closer, clearly not paying attention to the two men in front of him. The two didn't get to answer the question before the American was off rambling again.

But, somehow Mathew's quietness broke through to Alfred, "Guys. . . Why are you two so close? Papa?"

Alfred turned to the two older countries, his eyes widening at the way the two were sitting, "Dude. . . Are you holding hands?! England, man, is that. . . Is that a ring on your hand? What the hell. . ."

"_Amérique_, Arthur and I would prefer if you and Mathew sat down for this." Francis said calmly, much calmer than Arthur felt. Arthur rather felt like the earth was about to fall out from beneath him.

The twins sat in the love seat opposite of the couple. Alfred had a confused and worried look on his face, while Mathew just clutched at his polar bear and stared at the two older men.

"We wanted to tell you two first, so that way you don't feel like we just. . . left you out," Arthur spoke, watching his sons' reactions carefully, " Francis and I have spoken about a few things, and we realized how stupid we were in the past."

Arthur was glad when Francis continued where he had left off, "Arthur and I have decided to get married, and attempt to bring a family back together."

Mathew gasped quietly, and clutched his bear tighter. Alfred however had gone quiet, his eyes wide, and his body seemed to be shaking.

"You aren't kidding with us, are you," Mathew asked almost silently.

Arthur shook his head in reply, "No, this isn't a joke. Your father and I are really getting back together."

At that Alfred seemed to snap. The young man rushed forward and pulled Francis and Arthur into a hug. "Do you hear that Mattie! Papa and Dad are getting back together! You guys are getting back together! I'm so happy, oh my god. Thank you! I promise I'll try to keep you guys from breaking up again!"

A loud whining sound came from Mathew as he hurriedly joined in on the hug. Sniffling sounds came from both boys as they hugged their parents, each of them making quiet thank yous.

Arthur and Francis stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Really neither of them had expected this. They had expected a bit. . . calmer reactions.

But, now that was over. Now all they had to do was tell the rest of the world.

* * *

Telling the other countries wasn't as hard as they thought. They mentioned it in the next meeting and the room filled with cheers. Though, that had surprised them.

Something to do with finally being able to get through a meeting without them fighting because of sexual tension. But, they decided to laugh and celebrate it with the others.

Then they realized they had unknowingly caused a chain of events. Marriage proposals began flying through the room. Apparently because if Arthur and Francis decided to get married because they wanted to, everyone else would. The others were waiting for the couple to get together for a while, before anyone would decide it.

according to Feliciano, anyway. Whom had finally answered positively to Ludwig's proposal.

But, everyone in the room agreed, Arthur and Francis were to have the first and best wedding out of all of them. The two countries deserved it.

* * *

Planning the wedding was horrendous. With two such different tastes, and then everyone else trying to butt in and help. It was horrible.

The two just wanted it over. They were suddenly getting very popular, and they didn't like it. Their plans were insane, and they knew next to nothing about their wedding, which was going to happen in a few months.

One thing they knew for sure though, was that they were going to a very _quiet_ place for their honeymoon. Where no one would interrupt them.

Probably an island.

Arthur threatened Francis. They are going to an island.

No ifs ands or buts about it.


	3. Chapter 3

The day was beautiful, the sun was shining, the air was cool, and the sky was clear. It was a perfect day for a wedding.

But, all Arthur could think was how unsure he was. Things seemed to be going downhill for him. He and Francis seemed so different, how could this ever work out? And, why did Francis have to pick the date? Why this date?

April eighth. It was already a sort of anniversary for them.

Arthur sighed, already knowing he was blowing the situation way out of proportion. He could do this. He loves Francis, and Francis loves him. He's pretty sure Francis loves him. Maybe 50% sure Francis loves him.

Sighing, he picked at the silkey blue shirt while glaring at his mirror self. He and Francis were getting married, and he was going to be happy about it, damn it.

"Arthur?"

Arthur turned to see red hair and green eyes that matched his. "Allistor? What are you doing here?"

"I can't miss my little brother's wedding can I," the man's smirk widened, "And congrats on that. I suppose you weren't the one to send me and the other's invitations, huh?"

"No! Are they here too? Oh God, I can't do this, Francis you dumb ass!"

"Calm down, kid. I'm the only one who came," The Scotsman held up his hands, in a seemingly reassuring way, but Arthur only shrank back away from him.

"Oh. Uh. . . Shit, Arthur. I uh. . . forgot about all that mess." The man brought his hands back down, "I'm sorry about that. About all the things in that past too. You know how we. . . We all lost it when Mother disappeared."

Arthur took a deep breath, "It's ok, Allistor, really. I. . . I think you should go take your seat now."

The red-head nodded, heading towards the door, "Oh, and before I go. I visited the French bastard before I came to see you. He looked just as nervous as you do. Don't worry about a thing, kid."

The man left, the door closing quietly behind him. Arthur waited in silence a few moments, before a smile creeped on his face.

Francis was nervous too.

* * *

Arthur followed after Elizabeta, the woman leading him to the main room. She would look behind her every once in a while, a smile in her eyes.

"Lighten up, Arthur. It's your wedding day, you should be smiling. Look happy."

He scowled at the brunette, continuing to follow her quietly.

He began to hear the music, and took a deep breath. He was ready for this. He was. Elizabeta stopped him before he could turn the corner, fixing his hair, and straightening his shirt.

"Don't worry, Arthur. Just see him, and no one else, and you'll be fine. I promise," She smiled before pushing him towards the corner.

Arthur stepped out quickly, before he could convince himself not to. His eyes searched frantically for Francis, even though he knew where the man would be. The Frenchman stood at the altar, a smile on his face, but even Arthur could see the nervousness in his blue eyes.

The room was quiet as he walked closer to the man, but Arthur didn't pay any attention to them. A smile graced his lips as he got closer and closer, and finally made it to where the other man had his hand held out to him.

"Hello, _lapin_."

* * *

It was hours after the wedding had ended, and Francis had yet to stop kissing him. Arthur found himself not really caring. He and Francis had finally did it. They were married. They were going to have a happy ending.

At least, that's what he imagined.

Pushing the pouting Frenchman away, Arthur laughed, "Save it for the honeymoon, Francis. It shouldn't be that much longer."

"But, _lapin_, we are technically on our honeymoon now," Francis smirked, leaning in to kiss his husband again.

"Fine! Fine, Francis! Wait!" Arthur had to push the other off again, "Save it for the honeymoon room. Is that better?"

"Non."

"That's what I thought. You can keep it in your pants for another hour or so." Arthur laughed once more and intertwined his finger's with his husband's.

Watching the two blue and green gems glint off of their hands, Arthur felt happier than he had in centuries.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur felt like he was going bloody insane. They tried, and tried, and tried, and yet there was still no child. Nothing.

He had tested himself once a week for months now, and he was starting to get depressed. And a little angry. Feliciano was already pregnant, why isn't he?

Was something wrong with him? Maybe he was doing the spell wrong? No, he had done the spell on the Italian, and it worked. Was he to old, then? He and Francis were quite older than the others. . .

This would be the last time, he decided. The last time he will read out that spell and point his magic at himself. The last time he would try for something that didn't even seem to be coming. He was growing tired of it. He was pretty sure Francis was tired too.

Pulling out the book once more, he turned to the familiar page. Leaning back in the chair, he began reading quietly. His voice didn't fill the room as it once did, at some point sounding like Alfred, and now sounding more like Mathew.

His body began to glow with a yellow light, before centering on his chest and disappearing. He leaned his head back, counting the seconds until the spell would tell him what he wished to know. Seconds turned to minutes, and Arthur stayed still in the silent room. His breathing evened, feeling himself begin to fall asleep.

Then he felt something different. He didn't remember feeling it before. Opening his eyes in fear, he looked down, his body suddenly stiffening. A purple glow emitted from his stomach, shining weakly in the darkness of the room.

His eyes moved quickly back to the book, knowing what the color meant, be he had to make sure. His hand lightly touched the page, following the text to what he wanted, needed, to know. Purple. Pregnant country.

The book landed on the ground with a loud thump. His eyes stared blankly at where the book had been seconds before. He couldn't believe it. It was happening. He was pregnant.

"Arthur? Arthur what was that noise? Did one of your spells mess up again," Francis' voice called from the top of the stairs, a joking tone in his voice. The Frenchman noticed something was wrong, and sprinted down the stairs, looking at Arthur with worry, "Arthur? Arthur what's wrong. _Lapin? Êtes-vous d'accord?"_

Green eyes finally met startled blue ones, "It was purple."

"Arthur, what-"

"Purple, Francis! It was purple," he yelled, laughing suddenly. Tears dripped down his cheeks as he laughed, pointing at the book.

Francis, terrified for his husband's sanity, lifted the book to hopefully figure out what was happening. His eyes widened when he read the page, having to reread what he saw. "You- you're. . ." his voice cut off, looking back into tearful green eyes.

The Englishman nodded and held his arms out, a silent request. One Francis couldn't refuse. He pulled his smaller husband into a tight embrace, laughing along with the gripped each other, laughing and crying in each other's arms.

* * *

The first months were always the worst. At least, that's what Francis had always heard. He couldn't help but agree with the sentiment, now living with a very cranky and ill Englishman. They had been so happy when they found out. That was until the morning sickness hit.

The Brit had cursed Francis in every language possible, even in languages he didn't even know the other man knew. But, what would he expect from a former pirate?

Then the cravings started. Arthur started asking for the strangest things, Francis happy that most of the foods were French. It started to get terrifying though when Arthur started threatening with castration when the Frenchman tried to get out of cooking.

And then the extreme emotions. One moment Arthur was laughing and happy as could be, and the next he was screaming and crying, asking for Francis to hold him. Some days Francis could be minding his own business, and suddenly Arthur would be there attacking him. In good and bad ways.

Either way, Francis didn't think he was going to survive this pregnancy.

* * *

_**Months later:**_

They had some trouble with names for the child, Arthur not being in the right of mind when they were trying to decide. Whenever Francis would ask, Arthur would wrap his arms around his round stomach, and glare.

"It's a girl. I know it is. Why the fuck would I need to pick out a boy's name."

"Because, Arthur, we won't know for sure what the child is until it's here," Francis tried to reason with him.

"HER NAME WILL BE SOPHIA FAE BONNEFOY! IT'S A GIRL FRANCIS! I KNOW IT IS!" Arthur would often let anger get to him easier, his face turning red and eyes turning livid. Then he wouldn't talk to Francis for days, until he would go to the Frenchman crying and apologizing.

Francis kept boy names to himself, knowing his husband would not listen to his words. Not to mention he didn't want to stress Arthur out too much, not knowing how much strain he could put on the unborn child.

* * *

_**Final Month:**_

_**"FRANCIS FUCKING BONNEFOY WHEN THIS IS OVER I WILL MURDER YOU!"**_

_To be continued. . . _


	5. Chapter 5

_**"FRANCIS FUCKING BONNEFOY WHEN THIS IS OVER I WILL MURDER YOU!"**_

The smaller man's back arched dramatically as he screamed, and Francis could only wonder how his body was still that flexible while pregnant. Arthur's face was red, eyes squeezed closed in pain. His breath came rapidly as his body shook.

Arthur's hand gripped Francis', his nails digging into the skin roughly. Francis could feel every bone in his hand be squeezed tightly, and he feared that before this was over his hand would be shattered.

That was luckily when the shaking stopped and Elizabeta burst into the room. She took one look at Arthur and sent a worried glance to Francis, "Out. Now."

She quickly tugged Francis' hand out of Arthur's, causing the smaller to scream in alarm. She pushed the Frenchman from the room, and before she closed the door, she smiled at him, but Francis could see the worry in her eyes. "Don't worry, Francis. It'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

And then the door was closed in his face, but he continued to hear the screaming as he went to the sitting room to wait it out.

* * *

Half an hour later, Francis was startled by Mathew slamming the front door open, and dragging a crying American behind him. Mathew had an irritated scowl on his face, dragging his younger twin behind him. His scowl immediately changed to a worried look when he saw Francis.

"Is Dad ok," he asked loudly, finally hearing Alfred's wailing cease. Alfred had actually gone completely still, seeming to not be breathing.

"I. . ." Francis sighed, "I don't know. Elizabeta kicked me out." He looked to the twins trying to judge if he should mention some of what had happened, "The screaming stopped about ten minutes ago. Every once in a while there will be a crash from upstairs. . . but I have no idea what is happening up there."

Mathew frowned, releasing his brother, and moving to hug his father, "I'm sure It's ok. Elizabeta knows what she's doing."

Alfred joined his brother in the hug, "You look tired Papa. You should rest. Dad's probably gonna need you later, so you should be well rested when he does."

The older countries were surprised that something that actually made sense had come from Alfred. Francis sighed once more, messing with Alfred's hair.

"Thank you, _Amérique_, but I don't think I can rest until I know. I need to know if he's ok. I don't think. . . I don't think I could live with myself if he lost himself in this."

The twins stayed silent, not expecting something so dark to come from the normally light-hearted country. They didn't want to admit to it, but they feared for their father too. They didn't want to lose him now. Not now or ever.

* * *

It was a few hours later that it happened. A few hours of pacing and worrying and crying, it finally happened. Elizabeta came downstairs, looking tired and sporting a few new bruises.

She gave Francis a look,"You should have told me how small he had gotten Francis. You should have told me, and this probably would have been easier." She sighed, "In his anxiety, and fear, he fought back, and hard. He shot me across the room a few times. I finally got him calm enough to convince him asleep."

Francis felt fear strike his heart, "Is he-"

"He seems to still be with us. He's upstairs resting, and just talking to the baby," She smiled and went to the door, "Congrats, It's a girl. I'll be back in a few days to check on them."

The door closed quietly, as to not wake the two sleeping countries on the couch. Francis didn't seem to care as he raced up the stairs, to where he knew Arthur was laying.

When he quietly slid the door open, and slipped into the room, he was struck with memories of times past.

_ Arthur stood in the field, holding the tiny country in his arms, humming quietly. He made quiet promises to the child, promising to protect him and love him forever. Francis stood in the shade of the nearby trees, holding what he found to be the other's twin. Mathew had his wavy golden hair, with one little curl flying into the air. But, the little one seemed to be shaped more like the younger country in the field, which was what caused the realization. _

_ Days later he revealed the other child to Arthur, watching the man's face light up in happiness. Arthur wanted to raise Mathew too, Francis realized, and he was perfectly ok with that. It gave him a reason to get closer to Arthur it seemed. Then Francis met little Alfred. With hair that matched the Brit's, he was surprised to see his own blue eyes staring back at him. He had fallen in love with the toddlers at once._

_ Eventually, they made it official. They signed with their leaders, and made a partnership. They agreed to raise the two countries together, and whatever else they did, well, it didn't matter to the leaders. The two fell together, before they could even realize what had happened. _

He returned to his senses, shaking off the memories. He saw the scene again, except this time Arthur was sitting on a bed, holding a tiny thing wrapped in a pink blanket. Arthur's eyes shown with a happy light, his humming barely reaching Francis.

Francis stepped across the room, trying not to disturb the moment. Spots of blonde hair, chubby cheeks, and wide blue eyes with green flecks met his sight. The little girl cooed happily at Francis, her tiny hand gripping his offered finger.

Arthur stopped his song to look at the Frenchman, "I told you she was a girl."

Francis smiled, having a feeling that everything would be ok. "Hello, Sophia."


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur held the small child to his hip, swaying around the room as he hummed. The girl chewed lightly on her thumb, seeming content to be swung around by her father. He smiled, watching the girl feel around her teeth, that too her must have appeared magically.

"Arthur, you really shouldn't let her suck her thumb. She could get stuck on it," Francis said from his seat, happy to watch his husband and child dance through the room.

"She isn't sucking on it! She has to get used to those teeth somehow," Arthur laughed quietly as the child's eyes looked everywhere before finally landing on her French father. The child smiled silently, her hands reaching towards the man.

Arthur sighed, handing his daughter off to Francis, the other smiling at the quiet child.

"Come here, mon petit," He pulled the child into his lap, "Now, let's try this again. Say Papa."

Sophia blinked at him, shaking her head a moment later. Clearly she understood them, but they couldn't get her to speak. She would always respond, but never did any words come out, causing fear for her parents. Usually a young country would already be speaking by her age, but she refused.

"Please, Sophia? Just say Papa. Or Daddy even."

She shook her head once more, before pushing herself away from her father and toddling away. She was tired of people asking her to say things.

Francis sighed, looking to his husband. Arthur smiled and shrugged, turning to follow after the escaping child.

* * *

They knew she could talk. They knew it. She just wouldn't speak outright. Considering the only reason they knew was because they heard her singing. A song that almost caused Arthur to faint hearing it, but he was glad either way that words were coming out of his daughter's mouth.

They could hear it then. The same song. The couple sat on the covered patio, watching Sophia sit in the grass and sing. Her hands moved around, grabbing grass and flowers, apparently trying to make something out of the objects.

_"Please don't lose yourself,_

_Please don't let go,_

_I don't know what I will do,_

_If I had to lose you too._

_Please, dear, I love you,_

_You're everything to me._

_Please don't lose yourself._

_Please._

_Please don't let go."_

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples lightly. He wondered where she had heard the song. It was nearly driving him insane wondering. The last time he had heard it was. . . a very dark time for him, and he did not wish to think on it.

But, he didn't dare tell the girl to stop singing it, she was using words! He couldn't stop that achievement once it had arrived.

Francis looked worriedly across to him, giving the other man understanding looks. He somewhat knew what Arthur was putting himself through.

"Don't worry, Arthur. She'll get through this phase eventually."

* * *

The other countries had decided for them. It was time to meet the two little cities that seemed to be picking up hearts where ever they went. Arthur and Francis couldn't really just say no, Feliciano and Ludwig's son Kristof would be there too (Ludwig had refused to call his son Pio even though it was the child's name).

So, they had dressed little Sophia up. A little blue dress with a white ribbon around the middle. Her hair was pulled up into a small bun, hidden by a little white hat. She was positively adorable, and ready to be shown to the rest of the world.

When they stepped into the meeting room, Sophia was sandwiched between them, her little hands gripping her parent's fingers. Her blue green eyes searched the room excitedly, knowing that she had never been there before.

Several gasps came from the room, many of the countries running up to see the tiny blonde. She smiled and greeted them silently, acting as if she were born for people to be surrounding her. The group made sounds at the girl, Aw's and How Cutes, flying from all around.

Feliciano, however, screamed the moment he saw her. He backed away, hands covering his mouth, and eyes filled with tears. Arthur had moved to grab Sophia, not knowing what the Italian would do, but the girl moved away from him, going to stand directly in front of the man, staring into his eyes.

The two stayed silent a moment, staring at each other. Slowly the girl reached up to pull the hat off of her head, followed by her curls being released from the bun. Looking into the Italian's surprised gaze, she spoke her first sentence, "I'm sorry." She then turned away, heading to her father, with a silent demand to be held.

The room had gone silent, the countries staring between the now silent child, and the crying Italian. Gilbert seemed to be the first to realize what happened, moving to help Feliciano from the room, Ludwig following after.

The others seemed to go back to normal, cooing and making sounds at Sophia. Even Lovino was in the group, getting permission from the child to hold her. He held the girl close, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "Thank you." After getting a smile from her, Lovino grinned, looking much like his twin. He handed the girl back to her father, stepping quickly to his Spanish husband.

A loud, "We are going to have children," followed the Italian, the Spaniard suddenly making a terrified face.

Sophia giggled loudly, clapping, as if she understood clearly what Lovino had said.

Eventually Feliciano and the two Germans entered the room, the Italian holding a sleepy little boy. His dirty blond hair stuck up in spots, one of his cheeks pink and covered in slobber. The child must have just woken up from his nap.

"Now that we've gotten everything under control, it is time to start the actual meeting," Ludwig stated, clearly not taking any questions or objections.

* * *

There are a few things in this chapter and the previous that ties into a One-Shot I've written, and will post soon. This one-shot contains some history before this story happens, but it does not have to be read. It has very dark themes, and is very triggering to those who wish to know more. I will be posting this one-shot soon, but at the time being it has nothing to do with this story, and anything that ties in with it will be explained. The story is called Please Don't Lose Yourself, for those who want to read it. It only contains mentions of FrUk. There will be several warnings.

Thank you.

**-Becca**


	7. Chapter 7

"It's Alfred! A-L-F-R-E-D," The American spelled his name out, his words showing his frustration at the city in front of him. Sophia grinned at him innocently, knowing how angry she was making her older brother.

"Alfie!" The girl's grin widened at her brother's near screech as he tried to tug out some of his own hair.

"Alfred, she's doing it on purpose. You shouldn't get so angry at it, that's why she's doing it," Mathew said quietly, watching the disaster in front of him.

"She isn't getting any of your names wrong," Alfred yelled in exasperation.

Sophia giggled, hugging her older brother, "Silly Alfie! You turn red just like Daddy does when I make him mad too!"

Alfred looked striken at the thought of having any similarities to Arthur. Sophia and Mathew laughed at the suddenly paled face, Mathew picking up Sophia to take her for a walk.

"Papa and Dad should be here to pick her up soon, Alfred. You only have to deal with her insanity until they get here. Don't worry," Mathew lifted the girl onto his hip, waving goodbye to Alfred, "We'll see you in about an hour. This wild thing needs fresh air."

Alfred nodded silently, still pouting from his spot on the floor.

* * *

When Mathew returned, Sophia was fast asleep, her head balanced somehow on Mathew's shoulder. Her blonde curls almost blended in with Mathew's.

He carried her inside with a proud smirk, "See, Alfred, all you need to do is get them to sleep, and they are the most precious things in the world."

Alfred didn't seem to have moved from his spot, not even looking up when Mathew entered the room. Mathew stared at his twin for a moment before realizing what had happened.

"Ah, I see. Now I have two precious things to take care of."

With another smirk, he laid his sister down on the couch, moving to find two blankets for the children his parents had left him with. He pushed his twin over, shaking his head when he didn't even stir. Knowing that both would probably be out until their parents got there, he settled down to read, glad for the silence to be able to.

* * *

Amazingly, Alfred shook awake when the door bell rang. He jumped up screaming something about heros, as usual. Sophia looked up at her brother for a moment before turning her head and falling back asleep.

Mathew sighed at the door opening, Alfred asking why Arthur was there. He forgot that sometimes he and Sophia both were invisible to their brother. Then he heard the startled sound that Alfred made when Arthur pushed past him into the living room.

The older country saw his daughter and moved to pick her up. He stayed silent the entire time, placing the child's head on his shoulder. He looked to Mathew and nodded in thanks, turning to leave the American's house.

Mathew sighed, slightly understanding Arthur's hurry to get Sophia. That had been the longest Sophia had been away from France, and Arthur's line of sight.

"Dad, will you wait a moment. I need to ask you something," Mathew asked quietly, knowing his father had heard him.

Arthur turned to his son, a worried look in his eyes. Mathew usually only came to Arthur if there was something he was scared of mentioning to Francis. "Yes, Mathew?"

Alfred interrupted the two, by coming in and staring at Mathew, "Dude. Matt, when did you get here?"

Mathew rolled his eyes, "You called me here to help you with Sophia because you couldn't get her to stop calling you Alfie. Then you passed out. Must of been a deep sleep, you forgot everything again."

Alfred stared blankly at the wall, "I'm- I'm going to bed. It's to late for this stuff."

"Alfred it's only three, you should be working," Arthur scolded, watching Alfred slowly head back to his room.

"Let him be, Dad. He's had to deal with that little monster all day," Mathew spoke, pointing at Sophia.

"She doesn't seem to be much of a monster now," Arthur replied jokingly, moving to sit next to Mathew, "Now, tell me what's on your mind."

Mathew sighed, staring out a window before looking back to his father, "Gilbert asked me to marry him. I. . . I don't know how to respond. I mean. . ."

"You love him, don't you," Arthur asked.

"Yes."

"And he loves you."

"I think so, but what does this-"

"I know what you are worried about, Mathew. If you love him, and he loves you. If he treats you right, and you return the favor. If you want to marry him, do it. Screw what Francis thinks. Screw what he says. If Francis truly cares about the two of you, he won't care," Arthur smiled at his son, messing with his hair.

Mathew smiled in relief, "Thanks Dad. But, how do I explain this to Papa?"

Arthur grimaced, "The best thing you can do is tell Gilbert your answer, then tell Francis the whole story. And then I'll try to handle the rest. I'll probably have to let someone take Sophia for that night."

"I don't want to cause trouble," Mathew cut in.

"It won't be any trouble at all Mathew. Your father and I fight all the time, you know that. That fight wouldn't be as bad as half the fights we have," Arthur smiled warmly, "Don't worry about a thing, Mathew."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a sneeze coming from Sophia. The girl's eyes opened slowly, before burying her face into Arthur's shoulder and coughing.

"Oh dear. It seems she has caught it too." Arthur stood, holding the girl close, "I'm sorry for having to interrupt our conversation, Mathew, but I need to get Sophia home. Apparently France's economy has been doing strange things recently, causing Francis to get sick today. I was hoping Sophia wouldn't catch it."

Mathew nodded, watching as Arthur nearly sprinted from the house, carrying his sick child with him. "Bye, Dad. Give Papa a hug for me!" The car sped away, taking the two with it. Mathew sighed, heading back to check on his twin. He hoped Alfred wasn't getting sick too. That left him to take care of Alfred.


	8. Chapter 8

This weekend was for them to wind down, an attempt to make sure their relationship would hold. Things were beginning to get strained between them, and they wanted to make things ok. They needed the weekend away.

Arthur looked to the Frenchman sitting beside him in the vehicle. He seemed more relaxed, as if he was really leaving his troubles behind him. And at the moment, the only trouble seemed to be their four year old daughter back at their home in France.

"Francis, are you sure this is ok? We've never left her for so long," Arthur was a worrier, yes he would admit. And he was worried about his daughter, to be without her for three days with Gilbert watching her. He could nearly faint at the thought.

"She's fine, Arthur. She'll probably be a little better without us there for a few days. Without us to remind her of those 'bedtime stories' she might actually be able to sleep normally again," Francis smiled and looked at his husband from the corner of his eye, "Don't worry so much."

Arthur sighed. It was the nightmares Sophia was having that bothered him. She would wake up screaming and in tears, saying the monsters were going to hurt her. She wouldn't go back to sleep until Francis came and sang to her, promising her safety. She would do it a couple of times a night.

Apparently the last straw was when one evening Arthur took Sophia to walk in the woods near their home so he could find potion ingredients. Everything was familiar to them both, they had taken the walk together many times so he knew she wouldn't get overly lost if she stopped somewhere. What he didn't expect however was that she stopped and didn't come after looking at what caught her attention. He had walked deep into the forest when he heard her screaming. When he found her she was passed out on the ground, her chest fluttering with her quick breaths, blood dripping from her nose.

Arthur closed his eyes as he remembered the argument Francis and he had when they had returned home. They had believed Sophia to still be sleeping when it started,

_"Arthur, I cannot believe how incredible stupid you were! You left her there alone! She was fucking alone, Arthur! Do you not realize how terrifying that probably was for her!"_

_"Of course I do! I was alone in the fucking forests until you found me, you ass! Of course I know how terrifying it is!"_

_"Maybe that's why she just stopped there then! She wanted to be like you from your stories! That explains everything!" Arthur backed up from his raging husband, the man throwing his hands in the air as he continued to yell._

_"You and your stories, Arthur! That's what caused this all. It's caused those fucking nightmares, it's caused her obsession with fairies and monsters, and it's caused this! She could have been hurt, Arthur! I'm tired of having to worry about what you will say to her, or what you'll teach her. I'm tired of worrying about leaving her with you! Maybe, what I should do is what you did to me! Kick you out and raise Sophia myself. Maybe then she will act normally, and not like you!"_

_"You wouldn't-" Arthur's sentence was cut off from a sniffling sound. Sophia was standing in the doorway, blue-green eyes watery with tears and her lip trembling. The two stared at their small daughter a moment before the girl took off running. _

_"Sophia!" Arthur ran out of the room, hearing Francis follow him. Sophia proved faster than both of them, already down the stairs and out of the front door before the two even made it to the edge of the steps._

_The two hurried to follow her, the sun beginning to set. _

Arthur choked back a worried sob, thinking on the memory. They had eventually found the small girl hiding in the woods crying. She had screamed at them how she didn't want to be the thing that broke them up. Francis had carried her home, apologizing and singing to her. He also made her watch as he and Arthur apologized to each other. The girl slept with them that night, not one nightmare touching her.

It was decided the next day that they needed a few days for themselves to figure a few things out. So they called Gilbert, he was the only person they could get to leave their country at the time, and packed their bags. Now they were on their way to Spain for a short vacation. A needed vacation.

* * *

A shrill screaming broke Gilbert from his stupor. He stood from his spot on the couch, trying to locate the sound. He had left the television near silent, so he could hear Sophia if she called for him.

_**Sophia.**_

Gilbert couldn't remember the last time he ran up stairs so quickly, running to the small girl's room. He tugged and pulled on the door knob, but the door wouldn't open. "Sophia! Sophia open the door!"

"Uncle Gil! _**Help me**_," the shrill voice reached him again. Pounding sounded from the other side of the door, clearly the little girl wanted to get out just as much as he wanted to get in. Her wailing convinced him of the danger, and he knew he had to get her out of there.

"Sophia, what's happening? Is the door broken, you have to tell me," the German tried to stay calm, but he couldn't. He had to save the scared child on the other side of the door.

"It's the monsters! Please, Uncle Gil! Help!"

Gilbert was stumped, so he did the first thing he could think of. He was going to call her father. Not Francis, no that man still didn't believe in the magic his husband could clearly see. He was going to call Arthur. "Hold on, Sophia. I'm getting help."

* * *

"Hello? Gilbert, is everything ok?"

"No. No no no, fuck no. I don't even understand what's going on. She's screaming and she can't get out of her room! Something another about monsters, fuck. Arthur what do I do?"

". . ."

"Arthur?"

"Call Vladimir. Tell him what you told me, and tell him to get over there immediately. Francis and I are coming home, now. Hell, I'll leave without him if I have to. Make sure Sophia stays calm. I will be there as soon as possible."

Gilbert stared at the phone, now with an empty screen. Keep Sophia calm, how the hell could he do that when he couldn't keep himself calm.

Another scream and crash came from upstairs, and Gilbert flinched. He could do this. And he rushed upstairs once more.

* * *

"Keep talking to me, _un prețios_," The strawberry blond vampire spoke through the door. Arthur had yet to arrive, but Vladimir had appeared shortly after the conversation with the albino German. Whom had yet to wake up from his faint.

". . . They're staring at me," the small voice came from the other side, sniffling quietly.

"Have you asked them to unlock the door," the man questioned, hiding the worry in his voice.

"No. They're too scary."

Vladimir sighed. He had guessed as much. This was too much for her. At least when he and Arthur had been going through this phase, they had had each other. Sophia had no one even remotely around her age to help her through.

At least Arthur had finally figured out what had been going on, and called him to help. He had thought on calling Lukas, but felt that too much magic in the house would overwhelm the poor child.

"_Un prețios__,_" Vladimir spoke softly to the scared girl, "Your parents should be here soon. But, you need to be calm for them to get in to help you. Can you see the monsters, Sophia?"

The girl was quiet for a long enough time that Vladimir began to be fearful when, "Oui."

"You can? Ok. Sophia, describe them to me, but try to stay calm as you do it."

"There is only one now," The girl spoke, quiet enough for Vladimir to almost miss it.

"One," Vladimir mumbled, staring at the door. He wondered where the others went, and what the meaning to this was.

"Sophia!" Arthur exclaimed, climbing the steps up to his daughter's room. He pushed past Vladimir, pulling roughly at the doorknob.

"Daddy!" Sophia yelled, relief clear in her voice. Clearly if anyone could save her it would be one of her fathers, right?

Francis climbed the stairs calmly, an almost irritated look pointed at the door, "Sophia, please. Open the door. You probably locked it when you woke up from your bad dream."

The girl's hands laid flat against the wood of the door, listening to her father's words, "Papa, it isn't a dream."

"_Sophia, juste ouvrir la porte." _He repeated, this time anger slipping into his words.

The lights in the hallway flashed , the rest of the house falling into darkness. They could hear Sophia's breathing change with her fear.

"Sophia, stay calm, please!" Vladimir spoke, looking around at the darkened rooms, swearing he saw glowing eyes in the shadows.

"It's isn't a dream!" Her fearful scream rang out. There were crashes and screams coming from the room once more, Sophia's voice suddenly farther from the door.

Gilbert woke with a start at the bottom of the stairs, yelling out, "_Scheiße!" _The albino sat up, staring at the group staring in fear at the child's door, "The hell is going on!"

Screams of fear and pain rang out, Francis' expression changing to extremely afraid. He ran to the door, shaking the knob and hitting the door itself. "Sophia!"

"Move, Francis! Vladimir and I can open the door, you just have to move!" Arthur nearly pushed his husband out of the way, grabbing Vladimir to put in his place. The two put their hands against the door, looks of deep concentration appearing on their faces.

The crashes finally stopped, the door swinging open silently and hitting something on the other side. The room was destroyed, the bed flipped over and split throughout the room. The bookshelf was knocked over, books strown everywhere. The closet was ripped open, torn and shredded clothing hanging around and laying on the floor. Toys were broken and thrown about.

Francis pushed past the two magical countries, stepping to an almost unnoticeable sobbing mass in the corner. He pulled the child into his arms, the tears on his cheeks matching hers. He carried her from the room, handing her to Gilbert and telling the German to leave the house while he and the other two discussed a few things.

Arthur stared from his place at the top of the stairs. He felt so stupid for not realizing what was happening from the beginning. His daughter had magic, and a lot of it. The monsters was her way of coping with not understanding. It was a manifestation of the fear of her own abilities. And it had been attacking her the whole time.

Now he knew what he needed to do. He needed to start training her to use it, to understand it. And he needed to help Francis understand too, that this was not meant to happen, and that he was stupid for not realizing.

And that their daughter had a dark magic, that could potentially be even more dangerous than what they had already seen, if they did not start teaching her immediately.

* * *

_Un prețios - _Pretty one in Romanian

_Sophia, juste ouvrir la porte. - _Sophia, just open the door. In French.

_Scheiße! - _Shit! In German

Note: I have to use Google translate for the other languages. If you notice something wrong please tell me and I will fix it.


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur pushed the blade through vegetables laying out on the board. The sound of metal thumping against the wood sounded through the room as he listened to his daughter doing something on the other side of the kitchen. He would have let Sophia make her own lunch, but she still had homework from the other countries to do. He wasn't going to let her waste time while he was able to work.

So he had decided to do something he knew he wouldn't mess up. Even Francis allowed him the pride of being able to cut things, probably even better than Francis himself. Of course, Arthur had been cutting ingredients for potions and magic long before he even thought of cooking.

Noting the fact that Sophia had gone quiet, he looked over his shoulder at the girl. Her nose was scrunched up, much in the same way Francis' did when he was concentrating. She always looked just like a mini version of Francis. Not to mention the fact that while she was concentrating her eyes seemed to lose all of the greenish color, and turn straight blue.

That was something he noticed since that night those maybe 12 years ago. The 27 year old city, really only looking around 10, had changed a lot since they found she had magic. It was like she lost herself that night, as a few days later she seemed to have a different personality.

Arthur watched her carefully, Francis seeming to not notice the changes. He noticed something weird about Sophia's eyes. The seemed to change color depending on her emotions. When concentrating, working, or just being calm her eyes turned blue, sometimes a violet color. When angry, competitive, or frustrated (often with magic) they turned such a violent green color that Arthur would sometimes feel scared. But, when happy or content, sometimes just thinking of nothing, they returned to the blue-green that Arthur loved.

Arthur turned back to his work, listening to the rhythm of the blade against the wooden cutting board. He stared blankly, his thoughts continuing with it original process of Sophia's changes. He thought on how she fought more with Francis now, but still went to the Frenchman with all of her troubles. He could understand that France was her country and she had a closer relationship with Francis, but she used to come to him more.

She had even stopped coming with him when he went out for potion ingredients.

His thoughts continued in such a way, his mind eventually becoming fuzzy. He stayed this way, not paying attention when he felt a numbness on his hand, nor when he heard a voice say something to him. He just continued to let his mind wander, moving his hands in the similar cutting motion, and not letting what was happening in front of him click in his mind.

* * *

When Arthur finally fell from the haze of his thoughts, he was surprised to see Sophia sitting in front of him, staring intently at his hand and wrapping bandages around it. Her eyes were light green and narrowed in thought. Her hands moved carefully, small and elegant fingers moving swiftly, so much that Arthur barely saw that they were stained red.

"Sophia? Love, what happened," Arthur looked to his daughter's face, alarmed now that he saw how pale she was. Her eyes lifted to her father's and he could see a fearful look hiding within.

"You tried to keep going," She whispered, before returning her focus to the bandages on his hand. Arthur felt the bandage tighten as she fixed it to one place. "There," she mumbled, placing her attention back to her father's words.

"You cut yourself while cooking. You tried to keep cutting when I stopped you. I assumed you didn't want to be standing there bleeding when Uncle Lukas and Vlad get here." The look she gave Arthur surprised him. It was like she knew everything about his past, and knew exactly what would happen if Vladimir and Lukas saw him in such a state.

"I- Yes, sweetheart, thank you," he smiled at his daughter, pulling the child into a hug. Apparently he was lucky, because in the next moment he heard a familiar knocking at the door. "Go open the door, love. I'm going to clear the kitchen of the evidence," He spoke jokingly, trying to get the girl to smile.

Her laugh held pity, but her eyes showed the humor. She moved to the front door, Arthur moving quickly to the kitchen to dispose of any warning signs, only to find that everything had been put away. The cutting board, the knife, the vegetables. Everything. Gone. He moved around the kitchen, looking for any sign of the earlier events and finding none.

He heard Sophia's laugh from the living room, and realized something strange. She was stronger than he thought.

And knew exactly what she was doing.


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur knew they would win. England would win, and Alfred would be forced to listen to reason. His son would understand, and Arthur would have his child back in his arms. They would work together to remove the thoughts of the American rebels and they would win. He knew they would.

Well, that was until he saw them on the battle field. Gilbert and Francis. Fighting. With Alfred. Against him.

Arthur never felt an anger such as that. He knew what was going on, he knew it. They were working to put Alfred against him! They were going to take his son away, and they were going to throw it in his face. He might have expected this from Gilbert of all people, but Francis to be helping them?

He fought with a fury unknown to all that day, making plans for that evening for him and the two traitors on the battle field.

Hours later he found himself walking through the American camps. He had dressed as closely as he possibly could have to them, walking through and trying not to get noticed. All he wanted was to talk, really. He just wanted to talk to Gilbert and Francis. Yes, he still carried his fun with him, but that was only for emergencies.

"Arthur?"

He turned to see the voice that called to him, seeing the albino immediately. Gilbert looked both concerned and confused. The embodiment held his hand up in between Arthur and himself.

"Arthur, what are you doing here? Mein Gott, do you know how pale you are? Arthur, you need to get back to your camp, are you lost or something?"

Arthur stared at Gilbert, feeling his anger rise again. He smiled, in what he hoped was a reassuring way, dropping his gun to the dirt, "I just want to talk to you, Gilbert. Please."

"Arthur. . ." Gilbert still looked confused, surprised more than anything. He stepped closer to Arthur, wary but unguarded. "Alright. What do you want to talk about."

Arthur smiled weakly, relief in his eyes. "Thank you." He moved his hands, taking something from his belt. "What I really wanted to talk to you about is," His eyes darkened, showing the insanity behind his anger. "Is about how you're trying to take my son away from me." Arthur lunged forward, removing his dagger from it's sheathe completely and aiming the point for Gilbert's chest.

"Arthur, what-" Gilbert stopped his words, feeling his back hit the crates behind him and a blade push through his chest, barely missing his heart. He stared down at the Englishman, mouth open in shock. He stared down at Arthur's grinning face, the tears streaming down his cheeks as he laughed.

Arthur pulled away, leaving the blade in Gilbert's chest, and watched the Prussian slide to the ground, shock still etched across his features. Arthur laughed again, though weaker, the realization of what he'd done finally hitting him. His anger was still feeding his mind, but his thoughts cleared enough for him to understand.

"Gilbert? Come on, Gilbert, we don't have time for this."

Arthur stood fearful, looking to where he heard the voice. He knew it immediately. He would always recognize that voice. Francis was coming, looking for his friend. Francis would not be happy. Arthur needed to move, but he couldn't lift his feet.

"Gilbert, why the hell are you on the ground? Gil-" Francis had walked right past Arthur, not noticing him as his friends condition caught his eye. "Gilbert? What happened. . ." Francis began looking around, anger in his blue eyes. Then he noticed Arthur.

"Arthur? What- Were you the cause of this?"

Arthur stared silently, his lips moving to form words, but no sound coming out. He felt Francis look from him, to Gilbert, and then to his bloodied hands. He felt Francis' confusion and anger. And he knew before Francis even made a move that the Frenchman was going to make a run for it. Arthur felt anger fill his system once more, understanding that Francis wasn't even going to give him a chance to explain.

Arthur lifted his gun, sprinting forward as Francis turned to run. Arthur was somehow faster in his rage, cracking the butt of his gun against the back of Francis' skull. He was breathing hard, glaring down at the Frenchman as he struggled to turn and look at Arthur.

"This is what happens, Francis. This is what happens when you try to take my son away from me." Arthur lifted the gun into the air again, dropping it against the Frenchman's head with an angry sound, "No one will take my son away from me! No one!" He hit Francis again, "YOU AREN'T TAKING HIM AWAY FROM ME!" With one final, angry cry, Arthur shoved the gun against Francis' head, and watched the Frenchman finally go still.

"Shit, Arthur."

Arthur followed the voice, seeing Gilbert standing once more, paler than before. His expression was angry, and his hand was wrapped tightly around the switch to give off an alarm. Arthur tried to get to the Prussian before he could cause the alarm, but it was too late. Sirens filled the air, as soldiers moved quickly towards the source.

"Run, you fucking bastard. No wonder Alfred wants to leave you."

Arthur dropped the gun, and turned to run. He took a few weak steps, noticing something he didn't see before. A girl with blonde hair and blue-green eyes watched the situation, mouth dropped in shock. She looked so familiar, and Arthur racked his mind, listening to soldiers getting closer, trying to figure out who the girl was.

Shock surrounded Arthur as he realized. The sound of soldiers faded, along with the images, leaving him and the girl in a blank room with no sound. Arthur mumbled her name softly, seeing the tears in her eyes, "Sophia. . ."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Arthur woke up with a shout, finding himself sitting up with tears on his face. He saw her, standing at the edge of the bed, staring at him with almost disgust in her eyes. He felt Francis moving next to him, probably trying to wake himself up enough to look at Arthur.

"Sophia? What are you doing in here," Francis sat up, looking to his daughter. He blinked slowly, trying to get used to the darkness, but soon looked to Arthur, seeing the look she was giving him.

"Dad and I had the same nightmare. Uncle Lukas told me that dreams, especially nightmares, are often times memories from a nation's past. Dad, I don't care what your reasons were, I just want to know if that really happened."

Arthur sat in silence, losing the ability to speak like he had done in the dream. He could feel the stares of his daughter and husband, and more than anything he wanted to say no.

"Dad! Did it happen!" Sophia hardly ever yelled, and here she was, confusion and disappointment filling the room.

Arthur had to look away as he nodded. He listened to her gasp, then her footsteps walk quickly from the room, the door clicking closed behind her. Arthur shook uncontrollably, feeling Francis' arms wrap around him.

"Which one was it?"

Arthur sighed, "My reaction to you and Gilbert helping Alfred in his revolution."

Francis tensed, and Arthur knew he wanted to reach to the scar they both knew rested on the back of the Frenchman's head.

"It wasn't a. . ."

"No. It was from an outside perspective. Not from mine or yours, I don't know why she saw it. It's to early for her to get a nation's memories anyway," Arthur felt bad for snapping at Francis, but he had felt the same worry. He was worried about her reaction, and God did he not want her to know about that side of him. About what he could do, what he could become.

Now she did.


	11. Chapter 11

"Really, Francis, we'll be fine," Arthur smiled weakly to his stubborn husband, watching the man as he tried to think up an excuse.

"I would still rather be here while he's here. What if he tries something?" Francis' eyes shot to their daughter, whom was still doing work assigned to her from one of her teachers, so that she could become a proper country embodiment. It was probably from Roderich, he insisted on teaching her the proper manners of a lady. Arthur and Francis would have taught her themselves, but the Austrian claimed that no one else could teach her correctly, whether manners or music. (Though both Francis and Sophia played the harp and violin marvolously.)

"What could he possibly try, Francis? I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself. And, if the need arises my magic has settled and Sophia has trained enough for protective spells, so we could fight him off if need be. Now, out! You have a meeting to go to." Arthur pushed his husband closer to the door for the eighth time that morning.

"But-"

"No. If you are late for that meeting, your boss will skin you. And then I'll skin you. Go. Allistor won't do anything. I just have a few questions for him, and I think he deserves to meet his niece. Sophia deserves to know a piece of my side of the family." They glared into each other's eyes once more. This would begin another fight, Arthur could already see it growing in Francis' eyes. He decided to say the one thing that would end it before it started.

"Not in front of Sophia."

They watched her head tilt in a way that clearly said she was listening. Francis scowled, turning away from them and leaving the home. Arthur sighed after him, waiting in near silence with the sound of Sophia's pencil scratching the page being the only noise.

"I don't think you needed to do that. You could have been nicer, Dad." Sophia's voice continued along with the scratching of the pencil, "And I wish I knew more about this uncle that has both you and Papa acting strangely. Did he do something?"

Arthur turned and headed for the kitchen, completely ignoring his daughter's questions, "Come get me when he gets here. I'm going to make tea."

He could hear Sophia's sigh from the kitchen, and desperately hoped that this would be the right thing to do. For Sophia and himself.

* * *

They were staring at each other. That was. . . good? Maybe.

Allistor looked as if he were trying to figure out a very difficult puzzle. Sophia glared at her uncle with distrust, and a look that clearly said she was going to get as much information out of him as possible.

"You certainly look like your father," Allistor finally spoke, his voice easing some of the tension in the room.

"I know. Everyone tells me that. It's not new information. Unless you mean Dad, because if you did I recommend you get your eyes checked." Sophia snapped at him, a clear sign that she didn't think she would end up liking her uncle.

Arthur felt deep concern for a moment, worrying that his plan might not work. Then they smirked at each other, a look Arthur had never seen on his daughter's face. He hated to say it in such a way, but it was a look that was purely Kirkland.

"So, Arthur. Tell me why I was invited here. Surely it wasn't to just sit and have a nice chat with tea?" Allistor, always straight to the point.

"No, no. There were a few things I wished to discuss without Francis' ever watchful gaze, and this was the only time I could schedule such a meeting."

He could see Sophia's shocked look from the corner of her eye, but she needed to hear this. All of it. "Francis doesn't need to know about any of this, unless it happens."

Sophia was full out staring at him now, and Allistor's amused look turned serious. He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, and chin on his hands. He nodded, staring Arthur down.

"You. . . know exactly what my past is like. You helped me through most of it, though during the time I would have argued that you were doing the opposite. I am fearful that my past may catch up to me once again, or worse," Arthur eyed Sophia as he continued, "As you probably know, Sophia has the Kirkland magic, and when I say Kirkland magic, I really mean Kirkland magic. From father's side, not mother's."

Allistor's eyebrows rose slightly, taking his time to watch Sophia and sense her magical abilities. The confusion in her eyes clearly meant that she had no idea what her father was talking about, and didn't understand the situation at all. She didn't even know what the point of the meeting was.

"You know how serious that magic is, Allistor. You know what that situation could mean." Arthur quickly grabbed his brother's attention again, his voice getting darker, "I am always fearful of losing myself again, you know this. But, I'm even more fearful of something similar happening to Sophia. So, right now I am asking you for this."

Arthur took a deep breath, looking at his confused daughter sadly, "If I ever lose myself again, I would like you to leave me in Francis' care. I want you to take Sophia. She may be French in nature, but she is a Kirkland, and has the magic of one. You and the other's could take care of her. But, also," His eyes traveled back to his brother, "I think there's a chance Sophia could lose herself too, and if that were to happen. . . I don't know what would happen. There would be no way I could take care of her. So I would like you to take her into your care if that were to happen as well. Francis and I would never be able to care for her in that state, we just aren't. . . strong enough."

Allistor stared at them quietly, his sad and terrified brother, and his lost niece. He nodded, looking at Arthur, "If you don't mind, I would like to have a conversation with Sophia about what you just asked."

Arthur nodded, smiling at Sophia and touching her head gently before standing and leaving the room. He leaned against the nearest wall, closing his eyes, and hoping to God he didn't start crying. He needed to be strong about this.

* * *

Allistor leaned back in his seat, noting how Sophia seemed to be very weary of him. Her eyes showed distrust, and worry, and had turned a sickly green color. Must of had something to do with her magic, he decided.

"So, from your look I can tell you understood nothing of that. That's alright, I'm going to explain as much of it as I can right now, and after I see your reaction, and talk to you about it, I will tell Arthur my answer to his request." He waited for her nod of approval before beginning the explination.

"I'm assuming none of your teachers have told you what it means yet, though I believe it should be including in the basics of being a country. Losing oneself is something a embodiment can go through during their life. It's been known to kill them. It's sort of when their past catches up and they get lost in their pain. Some people can lose themselves several times. Your father is that type of person. When that happens usually their personality just shifts or changes, but sometimes they will hit one they can't get past and it will kill them. Arthur has been through one that has almost killed him already."

Her look had changed, understanding filling her gaze. She glanced to where her father had left the room sadly, "And when he went through that, you took care of him, I'm assuming?" It was like her mind had finally pieced together a large puzzle as her gaze returned to Allistor.

He nodded, "Yes, and with help from others. Your other uncles, my brothers and Vladimir and Lukas. Your siblings, Francis, and many of the other nations helped him. I just watched over him. I will admit, some things happened that probably shouldn't of, because of drunken nights and the idiotic knowlege that even though we are brothers there isn't any shared blood in us because of how we are made."

Another understood moment was shown in Sophia's eyes, "That explains what Papa was worried about. You doing something would mean you acting on feelings for. . ."

"Stop that thought. There are no more feelings like that. It was stupid, and only because of a personality change within him. He wasn't my brother at that time. He was someone else that his mind created because of a past relationship I had had with a human. There's no need in explaining any of this until you are much, much older."

That was a very dark time, where he and Arthur had hurt each other just because they could, and it was not something he wanted to think on.

"Now, the next part is your magic. You do know that you aren't the only one among your siblings to have magic, yes?"

"Of course. Mathew has magic. It can make him invisible and makes him forgetful of very specific things. Alfred has super strength caused by magic. But I don't know much about my other siblings."

"That's alright, you'll probably meet them all and get a sense of them soon enough. But, you see, their magic is safe and specific, they didn't need training, and they don't even know what they have is magic. It's basically a very mellowed out version of my mother's magic. Fairy magic that is. It's very beautiful and simplistic magic. My father had Celtic magic, dangerous and dark, but equally as beautiful if used properly. Four of us have Celtic magic, and Arthur has fairy magic, which he passed down the watered down version to most of his children, except you. You have very powerful Celtic magic, probably more powerful than the Kirkland clan's put together if you train it up properly."

Allistor smirked now, "There's a story that Celt told us when we were lads, that after he died his magic would go to someone worthy of the family name. It looks like you're the worthy one, Sophia, though don't let your parent's know I told you that."

Sophia nodded, "Does that include not telling Papa what Dad asked you here for?"

"That would be best."

* * *

Arthur looked up to see Allistor standing in front of him.

"I'll agree to what you're asking of me, even though I know how hard it's going to be when it happens. But, there's something you must do. I need to be in Sophia's life more. She's a Kirkland with Celtic magic. While you, Vlad, and Lukas can train her to a point, she needs someone like me as a teacher. I won't let our siblings in on this, only I will do this." Allistor stared down at his younger brother, daring him to disagree.

"I would be happy if you did that. . . but you know Francis, he would never allow it." Arthur tried to look anywhere but his brother's eyes.

"I'll speak to him, but this will happen."

"Alright." Arthur nodded, shaking his brother's hand, and allowing the magic to make the agreement a contract that they couldn't break without harm.

* * *

**Well, it's been a VERY long time, but I'm trying to get back into this. Sorry for anyone who actually reads this, it's been such a long time. I miss my characters though. I'm going to let you know though, soon I'm going to try to start moving as many of my fics to archive, and probably rewriting a few. Has anyone missed this fic though? **

**ALSO a mention to the uh. . . relationship mention with Allistor and Arthur, I mean to really explain that later, I really do, but that is a past thing and will have nothing to do with this story. It's kind of weird but eh.**

**Also, still completely unedited, forgive me.**

** -Becca**


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